


Straight Man

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-19
Updated: 2001-05-19
Packaged: 2019-04-07 05:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Joey suffers with his straightness.





	Straight Man

"Do you think they're fucking?" Joey asks one night, nursing a lukewarm beer while Chris and Lance sit around, drinking matching martinis. Chris looks to the dance floor where JC and Justin are coiled like snakes, JC with his arms over his head and Justin's fingers spread against his back. They move like liquid, laughing. 

"No," Lance says, dipping his fingers into the gin and plopping an olive between his lips, "because Justin's never thought about it. Look at him," Lance points to where Justin's smiling, grinding on JC's thigh. "Then look at JC." 

Chris grins. "JC's packing it." 

"And Justin's not," Lance says, "and he's not even noticing it." Lance licks his fingers clean, leaning against Chris, and Chris bows forward, taking the rest of the martini Lance isn't going to touch. "It's a sad story." 

"Destined for tragedy," Chris agrees. 

"But it doesn't have to be that way," Joey adds, "right?" 

Chris and Lance share looks, smile, and Joey relaxes. 

He wants his friends to be happy. 

~~~ 

Joey, the perpetually straight one in the group, agrees to talk to JC, who's in the process of sewing a new pair of pants, the fabric a sparkly orange. He has three pins between his teeth but is still talking, babbling about stitching and pre-shrunken wool cloth he bought for five dollars a yard. Joey thinks this must be hell. 

"I think Justin just needs to be told," Joey blurts out, "that you want him." 

The pins drop out of JC's mouth one by one, and he stares at Joey in what looks to be mute horror. Joey frowns, suddenly doubting, because Chris and Lance assured him JC was gay, said they could tell these things, but JC looks shocked then scared. 

"I don't," JC says, twisting his fingers in the sparkly orange fabric, "want him. He's just. He's a baby." 

"He's twenty years old," Joey replies. 

"But I've know him since he was twelve," JC replies, "so I don't want him." 

"He's not twelve anymore," Joey says, and it sounds really stupid because Justin's _so_ obviously not twelve anymore, not with all his hair and deeper voice and sexual escapades. "He's legal, man. He just needs to be told. He's not smart about things like this." 

JC bends down to pick up the pins. "What do you know about it anyway?" 

"Obviously nothing," Joey replies and leaves. 

~~~ 

"See, the problem with JC is he thinks if he admits he wants Justin now then he feels it implies he wanted Justin then," Lance explains, sipping his rye and ginger while Chris sits behind him, drinking the same thing. Joey nods; it makes sense. "So maybe you're better off talking to Justin and getting him to hook up with Jayce himself." 

"I'm not good at this stuff," Joey says, shaking his head. 

"Me and Lance can't do it," Chris replies, and Lance nods, taking Chris's unused lime from the edge of the glass and squeezing it into his drink. "It's, like. If we do it, then later on, someone could, _potentially_ , blame us for corrupting him." 

"And you're straight," Lance says. 

Joey sighs. "I'm beginning to wish I wasn't." 

~~~ 

"Hey," Joey says casually, flinching when Justin tosses him the basketball. Joey scrambles to catch it, but he drops it, and he feels like a moron. Though Chris and Lance seem to consider Joey the epitome of straightness, Joey sucks at any and all sports. "Can we talk?" 

Justin crooks an eyebrow but nods. "All right." 

Joey sits down on the grass and waits for Justin to walk over, going through all the things Lance and Chris told him to say, but Joey's already forgotten most of it. "Here's the deal, man: on the Nsync queer-o-meter, how gay are you?" 

Justin blinks. "Um. Why?" 

"Because," Joey says, yanking the grass out strand by strand. This isn't fair, he realises, isn't right at all. He doesn't know what he's doing or why he's doing it, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to go home and let things work out on their own. 

"Pretty gay, I guess, mostly gay" Justin says slowly, and his voice is shaky and rough, and Joey panics, convinced Justin's about to cry, and Joey cannot handle a crying Justin. "That's cool, right? I mean, Chris and Lance ..." 

"And JC," Joey adds casually, and Justin's eyes widen considerably. 

"No way," Justin breathes, and Joey nods solemnly. "All of us are ...?" 

"I'm straight," Joey says. It sounds weak. 

~~~ 

"My fucking ass," Chris complains, drinking a can of coke. Lance has a matching one in diet, and they're tangled up on the floor, waiting for Justin and JC to finish recording their vocals. "Lance here got a bit frisky," and Lance has the good grace to blush. 

"I don't want to know," Joey says, flipping through his magazine. 

"Really, though," Lance says, lifting his shirt, and Joey looks up, wincing at the red patch of rough skin. It looks painful and raw. "Look at that. It's the stupid beard. It's rough. It's like being kissed by burlap, fine at the beginning but not so good at the end." 

"Stop talking," Joey says, chomping on his fingernails. 

"Do you want me to shave? You know I look like a tool clean-shaven, but I'll do it if you want me to," and Chris is patting Lance's belly lovingly, while Joey watches out of the corner of his eye and thinks it's cute. "I'll make it up to you tonight, man." 

"Cut it out!" Joey cries and stomps off to get an iced tea. 

~~~ 

It's been a party-hard night, and Joey wakes up on the floor of his bedroom, still drunk and barely conscious. He would probably lull right back to sleep if not for the fact the bed is creaking and Joey sees four naked legs. None of them are his. 

"Ugh," Joey mutters, and the movement stops. 

"Joey?" JC asks tentatively, and Joey snores, loudly and fakely, in the hope that JC is stupid enough to fall for it. JC gets up and touches him on the back, and Joey jumps, feeling like a cornered animal. "Um. Oh. Sorry." 

"Is he all right?" Justin asks, perched on the edge of the bed. 

"I'm not seeing this," Joey whispers, "I'm so asleep right now." 

"We'll go to the guest room," JC says, and Joey makes the mistake of looking at him, and yep, he's naked and rock-hard and shining with sweat. Joey presses his eyes shut and starts snoring again, getting especially loud when JC says, "we are really sorry, Joey." 

"Yeah," Justin says meekly, "sorry." 

When the door shuts, Joey doesn't even bother to get up, just lies there and thinks about getting a new bed. It's pretty traumatic sometimes, being the straight man. Joey's contemplating therapy to deal with it. 

~~~ 

"Ugh! Men!" Chris exclaims, stomping into the sitting area. Joey keeps reading his magazine, really hoping Chris doesn't go on. "Can you believe him, man? He'd rather work on contracts than fuck me. Bastard. I feel so cheated." 

Joey sighs. 

Chris flops onto the couch. "And Jayce and J, my god, man! They're making up for lost time, and it's just bang bang bang against the wall, like, twenty-four-seven. Honestly, man, I don't know how you do it, everyone fucking around you and you not getting anything." 

Joey punches Chris in the mouth. 

~~~ 

"You didn't need to do that," Lance says later, holding ice to Chris's face, and Chris grunts, glaring. Chris has glasses in either hand filled with gin and tonic, and Lance occasionally sips out of the left one. "You could have knocked out a tooth." 

Joey feels bad when Lance says that because Chris's teeth are his livelihood. The first Chris did when he finally got some money from the gig was get braces to fix them. Joey remembers Chris's hideous smile and shudders. 

"Okay. I'm sorry," Joey says, looking up from his magazine, "but he was annoying me." 

"It's not his fault you're not getting any," Lance says. 

Joey punches Lance, too. 

~~~ 

Joey goes out that night with the sole purpose of having sex with a woman. He doesn't care what she looks like, just so long as she has a breast or two and a soft, warm spot between her legs. Joey is a man with a mission. 

The club is dark and hot, jumping with hard music, and Joey orders three shots and does them in succession. Deciding that's not enough, he gets another three hits of liquid courage and goes on the prowl, letting his dick guide the way. 

After an hour, Joey is feeling lame. There are evidently no women for him tonight, and he gives up without even a single phone number. He blames it on the dark, the fact the ladies couldn't see his face and discover that he's Joey Fatone, raging heterosexual and ready to mate on whim. 

"Hey," a smoking man outside the bar says when Joey stumbles out the door, "wanna go somewhere?" 

Pathetically, Joey nods. 

~~~ 

Go somewhere, it turns out, is a synonym for fucking. Joey pretty much thought that it was and now he's sure. He almost chickens out, but he's still drunk off his chair, and he wants to see what all the fuss is about. Joey desperately needs to get laid. 

Joey learns a lot during the course of the night, like tongue rings are good things, brilliant inventions really, and a finger up Joey's ass while a tongue-ringed man sucks his cock is an even better thing. Sucking cock, it turns out, is not as easy as Chris claims it is, but Joey manages to do it well and with great enthusiasm. 

Joey also learns that being sprawled under a tattooed, snarly man, while he thrusts into Joey's body and jerks Joey's cock, is actually pretty cool, feels great and works up a nice sweat. Sure, it hurts like a motherfucker for awhile, but pretty soon, the bed's dancing against the wall and Joey's screaming like a banshee. 

All in all, Joey decides in his drunken stupour, a pretty good night. 

~~~ 

Joey wakes up feeling like shit, lying in his bed without a strip of clothing. Next to him, there's a body, and Joey check to see if it's breathing, and it is. Joey isn't all that happy to find that out, but he'll deal with it. Of course, Joey isn't all that thrilled to be naked, either. 

Joey steps into a pair of boxers and wanders into the main room, desperate for water. Lance and Chris are on the couch, watching cartoons while being business men. Joey grunts a hello and puts his head under the tap, drinking thirstily. 

"Someone got laid," JC sing-songs from the table, eating plain oatmeal. Joey looks at it and thinks he might puke, so he turns back to the water and laps at it. Justin laughs beside JC, and Joey ignores them. "We heard you." 

"Must have been some hot stuff," Chris says, grinning. 

"I guess," Joey finally says, wiping his lips dry with the back of his hand. 

"You were at it for hours," Lance adds, grinning. 

Joey blushed hotly, staring at his naked toes, and the door to his room opens with a loud click. JC starts choking on his oatmeal while Justin pounds him on the back, and Chris is wailing already, laughing and applauding. Lance just stares. 

"See you later, Fatone," AJ says, an unlit cigarette between his lips. "Got a light I can borrow?" 

"Yeah, man," Joey says and tosses him a book of matches. AJ nods his thanks and grabs his coat, locking the suite behind him. Joey's very thirsty again and grabs the last carton of orange juice, chugging. He puts it down and looks at the stunned faces. " _What?_ " 

"You did it with a Backstreet Boy!" Chris cries, wiping the tears from his eyes as he dissolves into laughter again, slapping the ground, and Lance is smiling sheepishly, trying to hush him. "You slept with the enemy! You, the straight one, slept with a man!" 

Joey shrugs. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm not as straight as you thought I was." 

And Chris howls.


End file.
